


Mine

by nghtskies



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Jason doesn't know, Mentions of underage drinking, Parenthood, Single parenthood, Slow Burn, angst with happy ending, curly haired! reader, did I mention it’s a slow burn, focuses heavily on familial bonds, hopefully seamless time skips, mentions of unprotected sex, realistic depiction of young motherhood, single mother! reader, strong mother/son relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-04-08 03:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19098583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nghtskies/pseuds/nghtskies
Summary: You made a mistake, that followed you for the rest of your life. Did you regret it? No. You were ready for the challenges this lifestyle was going to throw at you, but no one could expect the twists that were thrown your way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic basically took root in my mind and wouldn't leave me alone so here we are. I just finished reading the latest issue of SuperSons, and watched so many batman animated movies and so many plot bunnies bursted in my mind, but this was the only one worth actually writing. This fic will be a slow burn so please stick with me and leave feedback! I appreciate it a lot. Enjoy reading!

You were a never a reckless person. You didn’t take risks nor do things on a whim. You always played things on the safe side, you always stayed safe in a world where everything was certainly the opposite. So when you ended up pregnant at nineteen, it was a shock to everyone who knew you. It wasn’t like you _planned_ for it to happen, it just...somehow did.

 

It was the summer before your sophomore year of university; your friends had invited you out to some random house party with promises of a good time and free drinks, and who could say no to free drinks? You tagged along dressed a bit casually to the event and to be quite honest you were enjoying yourself. The random person DJing was actually playing songs you knew, the house wasn’t too crowded nor was it too empty, and the buzz you had going on numbed the previous anxiety or hang ups you had about the night. It was an overall fun night, a fun night that ended up in a dumb, idiotic mistake.

 

If someone asked you what events led you to your predicament, you wouldn’t be able to pinpoint the exact moment the night spiraled out of control. Maybe it was when your friend ditched you to go makeout with her boyfriend, or maybe it was when your pleasant buzz tipped into tipsy territory. You didn’t know, but what you did know was somehow you caught _his_ deep blue gaze.

 

You were leaning against the wall, your head felt muffled with random thoughts as you smooth lip gloss covered  lips mouthed along to the lyrics of a random top 100 hit that was blasting through the speaker in the corner of the living room. Your eyes gazed across the slightly crowded room noticing the different people interacting, the couples sharing soft caresses or kisses, the long time friends sharing inside jokes, and of course your best friend intertwined with her boyfriend on the far couch.

 

As the song changed, so did your gaze and by some circumstance, your eyes just so happened to fall on his. It was pure accident, you didn’t actively seek him out, your gaze just so happened to fall on his and just so happened you couldn’t tear your eyes away. He was a good looking man, no doubt, a strong lean build, smooth skin from what you could make out, and plump lips that made you fight the urge to tug your own between your teeth. All in all, no one could blame you for your lingering gaze, but what truly captured you were his eyes. His deep cerulean gaze that reminded of the calming shade of the sky before the moon rose high in the sky. They were breathtaking. Something about his gaze unnerved you yet intrigued you at the same time. It was simply intoxicating.  

 

Your on and off battle of the gazes continued with the male across the room for sometime, as you both played the game of ‘who will make the first move’ and in the end, he did. You would like to say that he said something smooth that made you immediately fall in lust, but he didn’t. He just introduced himself, his smooth tenor voice giving you his name _(Jay, he told you. On odd name that you immediately made you think of Blue Jay birds.),_ and you gave him your name in return. The conversation that followed was mundane with a couple of flirtatious innuendos thrown in. There was nothing special about it, which makes it even harder to understand how you ended up intertwined in the most intimate way with a man who you only had known for at the most ten minutes.

 

You remember waking up from that night in a room you did not recognize with sore muscles, and a dry mouth that often occurs when you drank a little last night. When you rolled over, you took notice to the man, _Jay,_ sleeping beside you, his lean torso bare and littered with small scars that caught in the morning sunlight. You were a bit shocked that you had fallen into bed with him, but you were not that surprised to say the least. Logically you knew what happened when sexual attraction and alcohol mixed, but you never believed that you, yourself would be in said situation.

 

At first, you didn’t know what to do, how to react. Should you wake him up? Should you stay for the awkward “ the morning after” conversation? Or should you leave? Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could think yourself out of the hasty decision you quickly chose the latter thought.

 

Later, you would tell your friend about the night you fell into a stranger's bed without a second thought. You would listen to her laughs and giggles as you described the way you quickly got dressed and left the apartment without a word to your bed partner. You would listen as she called you scandalous with a fond smile spread across her face, causing a similar smile to spread across your lips, then you would forget about the incident, well until now.

 

Now, you were sitting in the bedroom of your shared apartment staring down at the pregnancy test in your hands. Never in a million years would you have expected two pink lines to make your breath catch and tears well up in your eyes. But here you were, staring down at the one test you didn’t want to pass, barely able to contain the sob that escaped your mouth.


	2. Chapter 2

The news of your pregnancy loomed over you like a thunderstorm cloud for the next couple of weeks. 

 

You didn’t know where to exactly  start after the doomed pregnancy test came out positive, so you just did nothing. You logically knew you had to tell someone and at least go to the doctor, but you just...couldn’t. You did not want this pregnancy to be real, and you felt like if you just simply ignored it would go away.  _ (It was stupid, yes, but who could blame you?) _

 

But the pregnancy didn’t go away, and you couldn’t shake it from your thoughts as you stayed up late at night, head usually emptying your dinner in a toilet bowl. You had to deal with this, plan something, or at least  _ think _ about it. So, you did. During your class breaks, you would research planned parenthood clinics, medical clinics, and really any question that popped in your mind. You quickly found a simple fast food job that would put a little change in your pocket to pay off a tad bit of at least the first doctor’s visit. You didn’t let yourself think about the circumstances of the pregnancy, you didn’t let yourself think about how the only thing you knew about the father of your unborn child was his damn first name, and even that probably was not real. You did not, would not, let yourself go down that train of thought, not until you decided what you would do. 

 

The day of your first appointment came quicker than you expected and you found yourself in the waiting room of a small local clinic, waiting on your last name to be called. You fidgeted with your cell phone, and at that moment you never felt more alone in the world. Moments passed, and your name was called and the visit flew by. The doctor confirmed the nightmare you were living for the past couple of months, and performed an ultrasound. The moment the machine showed the small blurred dot on the screen, you felt your eyes start to burn with unshed tears. You knew then that small blurred dot was yours, and no matter what happened you were  **_not_ ** giving that dot up. 

 

Your pregnancy was not a hard one, after the initial shock and panic wore off you had to admit you didn’t have it as worse as most women did. The physical toll of pregnancy of course changed you to the very core but it was the emotional toll that often kept you up at night. It was seeing the disappointment in your mother and father’s eyes once you finally broke the news down to them, that caused you to cry until you dry heaved in the bathroom of your job. It was hearing the whispers following you as your abdomen started to expand, that caused your chest to ache more than the heart burn did. It was having your best friend and mother throwing you a surprise baby shower that brought a smile to your face not the flutters you felt in the lower part of your abdomen. It was seeing the love in your parents eyes as they felt your child kick against their hands that made you felt like you could actually be a mom, not the doctor telling you that your due date was rapidly approaching. 

 

The pain of labor didn’t rip your soul apart as much as the absence of your child’s father did. But none of that mattered, the whispers of your peers, the long nights you worked so you wouldn’t have to rely on your parents too much, the slander the news said about your predicament, the judging looks you faced at your multiple jobs  _ (they always looked at your protruding abdomen then your left hand and of course it annoyed you to no end.) _ , none of that mattered when you held your baby boy the first time. 

 

He came into the world at the apex of a cold winter night. You would like to say you remembered the first moment you saw him, but everything happened so fast, you needed to look at your mother to confirm that your baby was indeed okay. The moment your arms were filled with your son, you felt the world melt from around you. He had a soft halo of wild curls shades darker than your own that the small  hospital cap could barely contain, his skin was about a couple of shades paler than your own, of course it was too early to see who he truly resembled but you did not care. To you, he was perfect, and as his long eyelashes fluttered and his eyes flew open, you felt your breath catch.  _ His _ deep blue gaze started back at you,and you felt the tears stream down your face. You never understood when your mother told you as a child that a mother’s love for her own was unconditional, but now you did. As you stared in your child’s deep blue gaze, you knew that there was not anything you would not do for the small human that lied in your arms. He was yours, yours to protect, yours to love, yours to cherish and nourish, and the circumstances that brought him into the world did not matter. All that mattered was that he was here and healthy, and you would let nothing or no one take him away from you. 

  
You named him after a  _ Star Wars _ character, much to your parents and best friend’s displeasure. You remember the arguments you had the moment you mentioned wanting to name your child something from the franchise but you didn’t care he was yours and no “typical” name seemed to fit him in your mind. You remember the whines from your mother and the jokes from your father suggesting that kids on the playground wouldn’t share your same point of view, so you decided to go with a “normal” middle name. As you fed your newborn son, you couldn’t help but whisper his name to him, stroking the soft curl that fell on his small forehead. “Mommy loves you,  **_Cassian Jason.”_ **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter mostly focuses on building up to the main plot of the story. So no Jason does not appear in this chapter just yet, but he will soon I promise! This chapter is a long one because it covers the span of Cassian's early childhood, and it was always in my plan to end this chapter once he turned eight. So I hope you enjoy it! Also please leave feedback if you have any comments or constructive criticism

You quickly learned that motherhood was not like you expected it to be.

 

It wasn’t the meal prepping, singing soft lullabies as you rocked your newborn to sleep like it was portrayed on television. It wasn’t the cute outfits and taking pictures of your son every moth that passed like what social media showed. It was not knowing what a complete night's rest was for the first two years of your son’s life. It was aching breast, and crying in your car after your son threw up on your only good looking blouse that fit you post-partum. It was calling your mother in distress when your son would just not stop crying although nothing was physically wrong with him. It was taking a semester off of university, and putting your dreams on the back burner because you did not come first anymore.  It was a helpless feeling that sunk into you when you couldn’t soothe his teething pains.

 

It was also seeing your son’s lips spread into a soft smile for the first time, and  hearing his light giggles fill the air as your face twisted into multiple silly expressions. It was waking up and finding him tucked into your side after a long night at your multiple shitty part time jobs. It was seeing his personality flourish as the months flew by. It was witnessing the unconditional love in his deep cerulean eyes shine back at you every time you felt his gaze on you. Yes, motherhood was the hardest thing that you ever had to do, but for you every single bad moment was worth it if it meant your son was healthy and happy.

 

As the years fluttered by and Cassian grew, so did you. Of course you knew motherhood would change you as an individual but you underestimated just how much it pushed you to grow as a person. It pushed you in ways did not expect it to, making you quickly grow out of your childish ways. Gone was the young woman who was quick to anger, easily frustrated if you did not get your way. You learned patience, and became more level headed, you needed to be. You went from never having the desire to even hold a child, to the sight of your son’s lopsided grin being the main thing to keep you going.

 

With the help and encouragement of your parents, you pushed through university, and a short few months after Cassian’s third birthday, you graduated. Graduation day was a day filled with excitement and large smiles; you remember being so overcome with emotion that you ruined your natural makeup for the day, but it resulted in one of your favorite pictures of you and your baby boy. A simple picture of him resting on your left hip as he waved to the camera, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement, you wearing a similar expression on your own face, your own sparkling the way his did.

 

With graduation came many job interviews and quickly the sense of success graduation gave you was stomped out by the many rejected job positions. You had come so accustomed to hearing the words, _“I’m sorry but..”_ that you began to lose hope and give into your inner anxieties. You worried that you would not be able to provide your ever growing son with a stable household. You did not want your son to grow up always being pawned off to your parents as you struggled to provide for the both of you. You loved your parents dearly and you knew their grandson held their heart the same way he had a grip on yours, but he was _yours_ and no one else's. You were not going to take the back burner in your role of raising him. That was **not** the life you were destined to live, and you would be damned if you wouldn't find a more stable job.

 

Eventually, the job you were somewhat waiting on came. It was almost a year after graduation when you finally got the call about a small middle school teaching job at one of the local at risk school districts. The job didn’t pay much, but you knew with your money management skills you would be able to make the salary work.

 

Your new job was able to provide you with an actual stable schedule, and having a stable schedule meant more time could be spent with the only male that held your heart in the palm of his small chubby hands. By the time his fifth birthday passed, you both had a stable routine, and for the first time in the past six years, you finally felt at peace with your life.

 

On the weekdays your parents would pick up the light of your life up before you headed off to work. Weekday mornings were normally filled with morning baths, you trying to wrestle your son’s array of messy curls in a neat fashion (it never worked, his hair was just as wild as yours), and at least a 30 minute argument ensued between you and your son about his questionable fashion choices (one morning you had to spend nearly 45 minutes explaining why red, green and yellow **_did not_ ** go together, needless to say you were late that morning.) By the time your parents usually arrived, Cassian would be finishing his breakfast (usually a bowl of _Super-Os),_ and you would be finishing getting yourself dressed. When you wished him goodbye, you always kissed him on his left cheek (a habit you developed when he was just three months old) leaving reminisces of the lipstick you wore that day on his rounded cheek. He would always make sounds of protest but the smile never left his face as he rubbed his face clean, but that didn't bother you. You would just teasingly tell him that he was rubbing your love in.

 

After he and your parents left, you would head off to work and most of your day was spent there. Not that you were complaining, you had came to love your job. When you were younger, you held a certain respect for teachers but it was not the career path you wanted to take. Yet as a teacher, you couldn’t help but fall in love with the lessons you taught and the many children that crossed your path. You loved your students, and pushed them to be the best versions of themselves, and because of this you had the best test scores in the district. After your work day would end, you would travel to your parents’ home and have dinner there. Usually at dinner, Cassian took over most of the conversation, telling you about what he learned or completed that day. Your parents insisted on homeschooling their grandson once you expressed that you could not afford daycare just yet and your displeasure for the local elementary school. Being former educators themselves, they jumped at the idea of being able to teach their grandson, and if he was happy so were you.

 

You would make it back to your own apartment a bit late with Cassian often passed out in your arms, you would lay him down in the spare room in your apartment that you were in the process of turning into his room, and your night would often end shortly after that. Weekends were usually spent just lazing around the house and depending on your paycheck of the month you both would go out on what you dubbed as “mommy-son play dates.” Your life wasn’t the most ideal, but it was yours and you loved it dearly.

 

As the years started to pass, you watched your baby boy grow and as he grew he started to change before your eyes. As a baby and toddler, he resembled you and your side of the family heavily. Although his hair was shades darker than your own, his hair texture was nearly identical to yours. Although his eyes didn’t bear any resemblance to yours at all, he held your nose and mouth shape. He was always bit tall (the doctor predicting he would likely outgrow you in his late teens), but he held the lean shape your father had in his younger years. But there were just some things that were just not you at all. As the toddler weight fell from him, and the child weight settled in, you noticed you both did not share the same facial structure, but it didn’t bother you, you thought it made him even more handsome, yet his mannerisms were a different story.

 

Your parent’s often pointed out how you and your son held many of the same facial expressions and mannerisms, when he was frustrated he would tug at his left ear or a stray curl like you often did. When he was happy, his lips spread into the same smile that graced your face. When he cried, his eyes crinkled and his lips and hands trembled in the same manner yours did. But some expressions and mannerisms were not yours, like the mischievous grin that would adorn his face as he did something he knew would get scolded for. The glint in his eyes when he finally figured out  something that had been puzzling him. His ability to hold grudges for such a long time (too long for a child), when you were a person who lived by forgive and forget ever since you were his age. His large temper that was much more explosive than your own and you knew you had a temper so that was saying something. His sense of revenge was something you were sure was a combination of you and _him_ , and often saw him getting pay back on a child for being rude to another on the playground. His coordination was another thing he did not inherit from you ( _you were an extremely clumsy and uncoordinated child, so it amazed you at how fast he caught on to walking and even excelled in child soccer)._ Logically you knew he could not inherit every little thing from you, as much you may have wanted to,you did not reproduce asexually, but sometimes you can't help the bitter taste that entered your mouth when he did something that reminded you of _him_.

 

Your son grew more each day, and the more he grew the more weird little things you noticed about him. You noticed how he was extremely gifted in controlling his young body, and because of this he excelled in many different sports _(something your father did not hesitate to sign the young boy up for)._ You noticed how he was a bit stronger than most children, but it wasn’t an unnatural strength so you didn’t think twice about it. Your son was just a bit gifted, and nothing was wrong at excelling at something based on natural talent.

 

It wasn’t until a late Sunday night when you realized just how gifted your baby boy was. It was the night after his eighth birthday party _(it wasn’t much of a party, as he was a bit socially awkward because he was often smarter than most of his peers, so the party just contained you and your parents_ ), and you were up late in the living room finishing up next month’s lesson plans when in your peripheral vision you saw son silently sneak into the kitchen. Your head snapped to the side as your eyes narrowed, your mouth opening to scold the young boy, but the sight that greeted you made your words die in your mouth as you witnessed your son climbing onto the counter then jumping from the counter to the refrigerator with ease and grace you knew you would never poses. He landed without so much of a soft _thud_ , and eagerly picked the lock on the cabinet that he knew contained the leftover cookies from his party. This action caused your words to finally escape your lips, “ **_Cassian Jason_ ** , _what on earth do you think you are doing?!”_

  
The next morning as your father loaded the young boy in your parents vehicle, you would tell your mom about the late night incident and the look on her face halted any jokes you would make about your seemingly athletic son. She told you how many incidents occurred like that ever since he could walk, and when you asked why she never told you because you never seemed to notice and she didn’t think you would believe her. As you waved goodbye to them as they pulled away, memories flashed of your son gracefully swing his t-ball bat with much to ease of a six year old, memories of how he always seemed to prefer the monkey bars and mazes at the playground other than the slide like most kids his age, memories of every unnatural thing your son did over the course of his eight year old life made you freeze in place. Just who had you slept with to create the love of your life? Who the actual fuck was _Jay?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slightly long chapter, as I'm trying to provide you guys with more content each chapter. Also a switch of POV finally! Don't worry it won't happen a lot but this switch was needed. Jason does not appear yet but we are slowly but surely getting there. Next Chapter should be finished shortly so expect that soon!

Although your new found information about your son shook you to your core, you didn’t have much time to think about it, as that following Monday your boss, the middle school principal, called you with an opportunity you simply could not pass up. It was a teaching position at prestigious West-Reeve School ( a private school in Metropolis), and not only were they offering you a position that payed much more than your current one, they were also offering the chance for your son to attend that very school. You immediately accepted the chance for an interview (wearing your best blouse, and whipping out every interview skill you could think of), and the following week, the news landed that you got the job. 

You could not be happier. Never would you expect, to be able to teach at such a prestigious school, a school that people like Bruce Wayne sent their kids, and not only be able to teach at the school, your son would finally be able to go to a school filled with his intellectual peers. He would finally be able to interact with others on his level, and not be mocked because he knew things other children did not. You were so happy that you could  _ scream  _ for joy. Things were taking a turn for the best and nothing could wipe the large smile from your face. 

 

Cassian took the news of your job much better than you expected. As a child who didn’t really like his routine being changed, your son accepted the news of your job surprisingly well. Even when you informed him that he would be attending the school and would not be continuing his studies with his grandparents, he just simply gave you a lopsided grin and expressed his joy in being closer to you during the weekdays. With a grin that mirrored his own, you pulled your son into a tight hug, squeezing him as he complained and whined that you were hugging him for too long. 

 

Once the next school year rolled around, you settled into your new job nicely, and you had a feeling Cassian settled into his new school just as well. Of course the first couple of weeks were rough, getting Cassian into a new routine was not easy. He complained when you woke him up as early as you did, he whined as you tried to tame his curls  _ (you knew they would only stay in place for the first half of the day but it was worth a shot) _ , and he argued with you the first time he saw his uniform,  _ (the color scheme was too blue, he argued, but you thought it brought out his eyes, one of your favorite features of his).  _ Yet the bright smile he wore on his face as he strolled into your classroom when school had been dismissed told you that for all the grumbling he did, he did enjoy his new school, and you enjoyed it as well. 

 

You enjoyed seeing his dark mop of curls bounce as he walked in the hallways during lunch time. You enjoyed being able to look out the large windows of your classroom and seeing him run around the playground with his new found friends. But most of all, you enjoyed being able to teach the subject you love so freely  without the constant worry of the next upcoming district test. Your student’s were bright, although some were a tad bit lazy, and like your previous set of kids, you pushed them not only as students, but also as people. You quickly became a school favorite, and in your short time at West-Reeve, you quickly developed many lasting relationships with your students, the main one being with a young teen by the name of Damian Wayne. 

 

When you first arrived, you were more than a little bit nervous when you noticed his name on the roster for your class. You heard from your fellow co workers how bright the young male was, but as bright as he was, he was also arrogant which came off in a know it all manner, causing many of your co workers to dread having him in their class. Yet he quickly becoming one of your favorite students; you enjoyed his feedback in class, and his comments always provided you with a different outlook on the subject you were teaching. Seeing as he was in your last period of the day before school let out, he often stayed behind a couple of minutes after the bell rang,  discussing the material from the day or just to have intellectual debates before his ride came. You appreciated the after class conversations and when he waved you goodbye for the day, you found yourself hoping that he stayed safe, a habit you developed at the beginning of your own son’s life. Yes, West-Reeve was a good development in your life, and you found yourself going to sleep with a smile on your face more than one time a week. 

 

After the beginning of the school year trudged on, winter came, and with winter break fast approaching you saw many of your co-workers began to take random days off. It was an uneventful  Wednesday afternoon and the school bell signalling the end of the day had rung about five minutes ago. You were engaged in your usual after class debate with Damian and you couldn’t help but laugh as he provided you with an idea that never even crossed your mind. Your soft bell like laughter was cut short when you saw one of your fellow co workers peek their head inside your classroom door. They informed you that the principal was hosting a last minute staff meeting to address the ever growing teacher absences, and you felt yourself roll your eyes in deep annoyance. Now you would have to call your parents and see if they could come pick Cassian up, even though the school was about 45 minutes out from their house. Sighing to yourself, you told Damian that you had to make a quick phone call then you could resume your previous academic debate and once you saw him nod his head, you quickly pulled out your cell phone and dialed your mother. 

 

As the phone rang, you leaned against your desk and absentmindedly twirled a stray curl between your manicured fingertips. You glanced at your watch, then outside and noticed the playground was empty, so that meant your baby boy was due to come in your classroom at any moment. You hoped Damian didn’t mind a little company, but Cassian normally just sat at your desk and read his latest comic book or did his homework so he wouldn’t be a bother at all. 

 

As the thoughts of your son filled your mind, out of the corner of your eye, you saw his signature mop of dark curls bouncing with every step he took in the hallway. Your lips spread into a large grin as you saw your son walk into your classroom, and you waved at your young boy motioning to the phone in you hand. Your son waved back, and before you could speak to him, you heard your mother finally pick up the call. Placing a soft kiss on his forehead you shooed him to your desk chair and began to softly chat with your mother. You were so distracted by your sons arrival you didn’t notice the way your favorite student’s eyes narrow at the sight of your baby boy.

 

***

 

If there was one thing Damian Wayne prided himself in, it was his intellect. He knew he was one of the smartest individuals in the country ( _ if not the world)  _ and it was something he did not try to play down or hide. So when his father informed him that he would be attending West-Reeve, he felt a tad bit insulted. He was intellectually above petty things like middle school, and he saw it to be a gigantic waste of his time; time he could be spent doing his own private research. However, he knew when his father got an idea or a notion in his head, it would not leave, no matter how much he complained or resisted. So he attended West-Reeve ( _ with some compromises from his father),  _ and like he predicted, it was a complete and utter bore until he started to take your class. 

 

It wasn’t like he did not know the material you taught ( _ he knew it rather thoroughly actually),  _ it was the way you taught the material that drew the young male in. You were unlike his other teachers in the way that you taught with a certain fire, a certain...passion. It was easy to tell that the subject you taught was one you intensively enjoyed and loved, and this passion reflected in your many lessons. To make the class even better, you did not roll your eyes or hold a look of annoyance when he added his thoughts to the lessons or activities the class was learning. You would just propose a question or an agreement to his comment that often left him reflecting in a different way. You took him off guard, something that many people could not accomplish. You surprised him so much that he started to stay after class to speak with you. 

 

He remembered the first academic debate between the two of you. He became so angry the first time he saw you tilt your head back, your curls shudder against your shoulders as you laughed at a point he made during the debate. He found himself becoming furious because he thought you were mocking him, laughing at someone you viewed as a child  _ (even though he was smarter than the average teenager).  _ However, as your giggles ceased he saw the mirth and enjoyment reflected in your eyes. You told him that he was brilliant, and refreshing ( _ something he knew already, but it was nice to be acknowledged.),  _ and resumed the discussion. From that day he found himself lingering after class more than once just to debate with you, and even though he lingered often, he never knew you had a son. 

 

In hindsight, it was quite obvious that you had a child, and if he had spent more time looking into you, the information would be easily accessed ( _ but he really did not have the time anymore to research every teacher he had, not with all of his private projects).  _ So when he saw a young boy that shared the same mass of curls that you held bounce into your classroom, it shocked him. Not only did it shock him, the sense of familiarity he saw in the younger boy’s face unnerved him, yet he could not put his finger on why. 

 

The familial resemblance between you and the young boy that was sitting in your desk chair was clear as the cloudless sky outside. From the way his dark curls bounced as he walked in the same manner yours did, to the identical smile that spread across both of your faces as you greeted each other _ (although the dark haired boy’s smile was missing his two front teeth, where as your teeth was flawless, a result from braces he perceived) _ . Yes, the younger male resembled you in a way that made most people do a double take, but there was someone else he reminded Damian of, and the name did not enter his mind until the younger boy’s attention was turned to him.

 

Damian’s narrowed eyes widened slightly as he witnessed your son’s expression morph from the ecstatic smile he normally saw on your face during lessons, to a sheepish grin and as the boy’s cerulean gaze locked with his own olive gaze and  the younger boy mumbled a soft “ _ Hi”  _  to him, he knew  _ exactly  _ were that sense of unknown familiarity came from. He knew that grin, and those deep cerulean eyes. It was in countless photos around the manor, and in many memories he held. The wheels in Damian’s head began to spin at record rate. Oh there was a puzzle here, and he would be  _ damned _ if he did not solve it. 

 

***

You couldn’t help the hand that came up to tug at your left ear as your mother told you that she could not pick up her grandson from school because your father had an emergency doctors appointment. He had an allergic to the late lunch they had, and she apologized profusely for not being able to pick her beloved grandson up. You assured your mother that it was fine and you understood her plight,  and told her to keep you updated on the situation.

  
As you hung up your cell phone, you couldn’t help the soft mutter of  _ fuck _ that escaped your lips. Before you could say anything else, you saw your son hold his petite hand  out and you rolled your eyes ( _ when he was just five you developed a swearing system, a dollar for each swear word he heard you say)  _ and you told him it was a dollar in your desk drawer as you shook your head at his antics. You turned your attention to the student that was still in your class, and admitted to yourself that you were surprised he still stayed around as normally he was gone by this time. You apologize to the young teen, and explained shortly that you would have to cut your debate off because you needed to find a sitter for your baby boy. You turned around to your son, expecting Damian to gather his items and leave, but instead of hearing the rustle of him putting on his backpack, you heard his light voice say, **“** **_Why don’t I babysit him?”_ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait on the this chapter, but it honestly gave me such a hard time. Like I scrapped this chapter so many times and I'm still not quite happy with the way it turned out but hey it's all in all just a filler chapter. This is a change of POV but the next chapter will be right back in the reader's POV, and Jason might appear.

Cassian knew he was a bit more perceptive than other children his age. He knew he noticed the little things many others overlooked or just did not care to acknowledge. It was a trait that made him more emotionally aware than his peers, and able to find out most things he wanted to know. So as he sat in the back of a rather nice vehicle beside his newest babysitter, he knew something was off. Of course it was peculiar that his mum would let a stranger watch over him, but he saw the desperation in her eyes as she told him that his grandmother would not be able to pick him up. 

 

So he supposed it did make sense that she accepted the young teen’s offer, but still something just felt off about the older boy. Maybe it was the short responses he replied to Cassian’s many questions, or maybe it was the way his grandfather referred to the dark haired teen as “ _ Master Damian.”  _  What was even more odd was the way the teen’s grandfather kept shooting him odd looks in the rear view mirror. ( _ Did he have something on his face? Or did  he look like he had a bad case of static shock, again?? Maybe he should listen to his mum when she told him to stop running his fingers through his curls)  _

 

The young boy’s rapid train of thoughts were cut off as the door beside him opened. Thick dark brows raised as a boy that looked to be only a few years older than him slipped into the car. The other plopped down beside his babysitter  _ (Damian he reminded himself, the babysitter name was Damian.),  _ and smiled so wide, Cassian could see the full set of pearly whites the older boy held. He heard the boy speak lightly to the young teen, and then they were encased with whispers. Of course Cassian heard some of the things were saying, but none of it made sense and it just confused him even more. What did Damian need to research? What tests were they talking about? Surely they weren’t talking about school work because if they were, Cassian was  _ not  _ looking forward to middle school. 

 

As his mouth began to form the beginnings of a question, he noticed them pulling up to a house so large that he was sure it was a museum at first. The words and thoughts of his former question died on his lips as he got out of the car. The young boy tried not to stare too much, as he remembered you telling him how rude it was, but he just couldn’t help it. Clearly his babysitter was well off, or at least his family was, so that raised even more questions. However, before Cassian could go off on another question tangent, he felt the other, taller boy grab his hand dragging him into the gigantic house.  _  Jon _ was the dark haired male’s name. He was certainly more friendly than the babysitter, but he still wouldn’t answer the questions Cassian asked, which in Cassian books put him on the same level as his grumpy babysitter. He was so frustrated at his questions not being answered that he failed to notice a hand tug a stray strand of hair from his mop of messy dark curls. 

 

***

Turns out the plan once they got into the house was for his babysitter and Jon to ditch him as soon as they made it to the main living area. Great, now definitely his babysitter was one of the worse sitters of all time. Huffing to himself, Cassian figured that he should just start on his homework and wait until his mother picked him up. It wouldn’t do good to go wandering around a home that he wasn’t familiar with, plus he was pretty sure he would end up lost the moment he stepped out of the main living area. \

 

Spreading out his materials onto the floor, the young boy loosened his uniform tie  _ (a habit that he picked up from his grandfather)  _ and set to start on the assigned work, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was looking at him. His deep cerulean gaze switched from the papers and books that laid in front of him, to the area where he felt the other gaze. And sure enough there stood his babysitter’s grandfather shooting him rather peculiar looks. Unconsciously, the boy’s small hand shot up to smooth down some of his hair when he saw the odd looks cross the older man’s features, and a sharp question of  _ “What?”  _ escaped the boy’s plump lips before he could stop himself. A couple of beats passed before the elder man replied in an accented voice that he reminded him of someone. Cassian furrowed his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, dark frizzy curls falling into his eyes. “Most people say I remind them of my mum,” he replied, turning back to his work. The elder made a noncommittal sound and Cassian got the feeling that his mother wasn’t the person the young boy reminded him of. 

 

A few more beats of silence passed before the elder man asked him a question, a question wondering about what his name was. The younger boy told him that it was Cassian and couldn’t help the giggles that left his mouth when the elder told him that the name was peculiar for someone as young as him. In return, Cassian asked the elder for his name and asked why did he refer to his grandson as  _ Master  _ Damian. The elder promptly responded that his name was Alfred ( _ Now THAT’s an odd name),  _ and with a soft laugh told him that Damian was not his grandson, simply the son of his employer. Well that made a bit of sense, but before Cassian could ask another question the other two boys stumbled into the room, and they were not alone. 

 

***

Damian had a thing for puzzles. In a world where many things came easy to him, he appreciated the things that provided him with a bit of a challenge.  _ (even if the challenge did not last long)  _ Maybe that's why his fingers were flying across the keyboard of his father’s master computer in the cave. Jon was in the seat beside him, his pale hand buried in a bag of chips as he prattled on.

 

“So you think  one of your brothers is, like, a secret family or something? And he’s kept it hidden from you guys all of these years?” Jon asked, his sky blue gaze flickering across the large screen as he watched the strand of hair process. Damian made a noncommittal sound before replying.

 

“I don’t know,” he said, leaning back, his gaze focused on the large screen that reflected the answers he was in search of. “Maybe he does…..but why move them both to a school he knew I attended if he wanted to keep them hidden?” The teen mumbled as he noticed Cassian’s school picture pop onto the screen; confirming that it was the young boy’s DNA that they were analyzing. 

  
A few short seconds passed and a picture of You popped onto the screen confirming the maternal relationship between you and the dark haired boy. A couple of more beats passed and both Damian and Jon could not take their eyes off the screen as the picture of Cassian’s father popped onto the screen. A slow smirk spread across the teen’s face as he read the name  _ Jason Todd _ on the monitor. However,  before he could turn to his friend in triumph, Damian heard a sharp intake of breath. Knowing it did not come from him or Jon, he swiftly turned around and a soft exclamation of  _ fuck  _ escaped his lips once he noticed his father standing behind the boys, gaze firmly focused on the screen


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this took so long! Summer classes are winding down for me so I haven't had much time to write. I love reading you guy's comments and they just make me so giddy. So thank you guys for them! As promised Jason finally appears! Next chapter will be filled to the brim with angst so prepare for that. Enjoy!

You frantically searched in your purse as you heard the soft knocks at your apartment door. You had walked in from work not too long ago, and when you heard a knock at your door, you knew it was Damian dropping off your young son. “ _ Coming!”  _ you called out sharply as the knock continued. Huffing softly, as you finally managed to find your wallet, you walked to your front door and swiftly opened it. “Damian, How much do I owe-” the words died on your gloss covered lips as you were met with the face of not only your son and your star student, but also Bruce Wayne, himself. 

 

You were ashamed to admit that before you were practically face to face with him, you did not view the man before you as an  _ actual  _ person. You, of course, never paid much attention to tabloids. Most because you never had  the time to, plus you weren’t one for gossip, and for every truth that’s out there, there were double the lies. So when you were younger, you and your friend group just used his name as a measure of wealth. It was common for you or a friend to say “I can’t wait to become Wayne wealthy.” 

 

So in your brain you never truly thought of the man as an actual human being. Even when you had his son in your class, it was just hard for you to compute that someone so wealthy and power could  _ exist _ . Maybe that was why your brain was currently short circuiting as your gaze locked with one of the most wealthiest men in the world. You didn’t snap out of your shock, until you felt your son estaically wish both of the other males goodbye.  Blinking slowly, you felt your cheeks flush as your brain start to roll again. You registered the older male tell you that you did not owe them anything, and began to protest, yet you were quickly shut down. Both Damian and him, wished you and Cassian a good night, and soon were off. 

 

Slowly you closed the door to your apartment, the shock of  _ the _ Bruce Wayne being at your front door still deep in your bones as you turned to face your son. A wicked grin was spread across the young boy’s and a deep sense of mirth reflected in his cerulean gaze and you couldn’t help the slow smirk that pulled at your gloss covered lips. “Okay, young man, spill  _ everything. _ ”

 

***

Later that evening,  once you and your baby was changed in your relaxation clothes  _ (you always demanded he change out of his uniform when he entered the house, insisting that you do not lay around in your good clothes)  _ you listened to his retelling of the afternoon over dinner. You listened and watched him intently as recalled the events of the evening, making sure you got every little detail that escaped the young boy’s lips. 

 

He told you about how at first, he was a bit frustrated that he could not stay with you  _ (a statement that made you feel a bit guilty, you hated when you had to let other people watch him)  _ and how his frustrations only grew when Damian wouldn’t fully answer his questions. He told you about the peculiar looks Alfred, the family butler, gave him. When you asked him to explain these looks, he simply said that Alfred often looked at him like he was seeing someone else. You simply replied that, that was weird and allowed him to continue his retelling. He told you about the other young boy that joined him and described him to be a lanky boy with dark hair  that talked more than he did. He offhandedly said that it was funny that all three of the boy’s had dark hair and you agreed with a small giggle. 

 

He told you about the humongous house he went to and how at first the other two boys disappeared and how Alfred was surprisingly a good conversationalist once you got passed his fancy accent  _ (another giggle escaped your mouth at this) _ . He expressed that when the young boys came back, Damian was actually a pretty good tutor, and did not belittle him when he did not understand something. After the homework was done, he told you how they went out to the courtyard to play a makeshift game of doubles tennis, and how Damian often exclaimed that Cassian and Jon were cheating against him and Alfred. You were about to ask him did he do anything unnatural but he swiftly assured you that he didn’t do anything too different ( _ this caused you to roll your eyes _ ).

 

He explained once Damian read your message saying that you were out of your meeting, Damian’s dad offered to drive him home. You couldn’t help but ask a stream of questions about  _ the  _ Bruce Wayne, but your son simply said he behaved a lot like  _ your _ dad, a statement that was simply too hard for you to wrap your head around. As you looked into your son’s eyes  and saw the sheer excitement in his eyes from having such a good day, you couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at your lips. You reached out and ran a small hand through his soft mop of curls and whispered to him that you loved him more than anything in the universe. Your son smiled back at you, and reached to tug at one of your own ringlets, softly whispering back that he loved you as well. 

 

***

 

Surprisingly, Damian began to ask to babysit frequently. At first it started out once a week, then once a week turned into every Monday and Wednesday, then that turned into every other day. At first you found it odd that a teenager would want to babysit a child instead of going out with friends or you know, doing anything but work. However when you saw Cassian’s face light up when he came to your office and noticed Damian waiting on him, you quickly squashed your anxieties. Somehow, Damian was squirming his way into you and your baby boy’s lives, and he wasn’t the only ones. Bruce  _ (as he insisted you call him)  _ continued to drop Cassian off, and when he couldn’t Alfred would be in his place. They both were polite individuals and after each drop off you felt yourself become more and more friendly and open with them. 

 

Before you knew it, you were taking three dark haired boys to your apartment nearly everyday. The first time Jon Kent came into your classroom with his mother to nervously ask you could he come over to your place with Damian and Cassian, you felt your heart swell. You remember the way his sky blue eyes gleamed behind his thick frames as you told him yes and began to give his mother your information. As you and his mother chatted, you noticed all three boys mumbling among themselves and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face if you tried. 

 

Your apartment became a place where you saw the boys flourish. You saw Damian’s harsh and often abrasive personality soften a bit as he helped your baby boy with his homework, but you also saw his sarcasm and bluntness help Cassian come out of the habit he had of dumbing himself down to be more approachable to his peers. You saw Jon’s shyness melt away, and witnessed how his energetic personality matched your son’s own hyper tendencies. Those two could talk circles around each other, which made for interesting car rides home. You saw your own son come out of his shell, a shell you didn’t even notice him having.  He was becoming more self confident right before your eyes, he didn’t doubt himself or the smarts you  _ knew _ he had. Suddenly the self confidence he often exhibited on the t-ball or soccer field was present in your day to day life. He wasn’t shying away from being smarter than his peers now, because he had peers now that could keep up with him. 

 

So when the boys came over, you left them be. You let them rough house if they needed to. You didn’t break up any arguments they had unless they got out of hand. You just let them be kids, because you knew that childhood was short and fleeting. 

 

Maybe this was how your small family began to expand. You found yourself inviting Bruce and Alfred to many family dinners that included your parents, when Cassian would pout when Damian had to leave around dinner time. To your shock they showed up, and what shocked you even more was how well they meshed with your own family. Your mother and Alfred was fast friends, as they reminisced on the trials and tribulations of being the sense of reason, and oddly enough their enjoyment of sailing. Bruce and your father turned out to be quite similar like Cassian had told you previously, so you would often find them engaged in a deep conversation that they would regularly involve you in when they needed an opposing opinion. So your Sunday night family dinners went from just being your parents, you, and Cassian, to being regularly joined by the Wayne household.  

 

As the Wayne household intertwined themselves so deeply into your life, you didn’t find yourself caring that much. It felt nice to have other people caring not only for your little boy, but you as well, so you accepted the changes with open arms and every passing day you became a little bit more content with your life. You were content with the little stories Alfred told you about Bruce other son’s. You laughed at the way Damian described his older brothers and when he told you about his brother named Jason, you just simply replied that it was quite funny that him and Cassian shared a name, missing the calculating gaze Damian shot you. You enjoyed the way Bruce would include you in on some of his business plights valuing your opinion and outlook on certain situations. Yes, you were coming to love your surrogate family as much as your blood family, and you couldn’t be happier. 

 

***

Christmas season came faster than you could have expected, and before you knew it you were in your parents home setting the grand dining table for the large Christmas dinner you were expecting to have. The house was filled with soft holiday music, and the aroma of food floated through the air. The feeling of warmth that was in the house brought you back to your own childhood; the early morning breakfast, the frantic opening of presents, the watching of Christmas specials after dinner. It all brought a smile to your face, and although Christmas was structured a bit differently this way because of the added guest, you still held the holiday close to your heart. As you placed the dinning wear on the table, your son on the other side of the table trying to be a help, even if he didn’t know the correct placement of the silver wear just yet, you couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous for the upcoming dinner. Today was the day you and your family would be meeting Bruce’s other sons, and you couldn’t shake the butterflies in your stomach. Damian was quick to reassure you that his brothers would take quickly to you just as he did, but you weren’t quite so sure. Nor were you sure, if your son would take quickly to them, but as the Wayne household began to pile in a little bit after 5 p.m. you felt your butterflies flutter away. 

 

Dinner went smoothly as ever and Tim and Dick fit right in the family, much like the other family members did. Cassian was fascinated by Tim’s array of knowledge, and was put at ease by Dick’s easy going personality. You found yourself engaging in multiple conversations with the two young men; conversations that often ended with easy laughter. Of course, Bruce had another son that would be attending the Christmas get together, but Alfred simply stated his flight got held up, so he would be a bit late. Noticing how easy you and your son got along with the others, you didn’t feel as nervous to meet the final son. 

 

After dinner, everyone moved to your parents cozy living area where gift giving would soon begin once the last person expected arrived. Deciding to be productive instead of mingling, you left the living room after you noticed your baby boy engaged in a _Uno_ game that involved Dick and Damian. Shaking your head, you began to start on the pile of dishes in the sink. You didn’t notice how much time passed, as you hummed softly to yourself washing the multiple dishes that were emerged in the soapy slightly chilled water. You were so engrossed in your task, you didn’t hear the loud greetings from the living room, nor did you hear the footsteps that approached you. 

  
_ “Hey, my dad wanted me to grab you for gift giving.” _ The moment you heard the familiar soft tenor voice, you felt your body still, and the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You  _ knew _ that voice. It was the voice that kept you up for many nights during your pregnancy. It was the voice that haunted your dreams just when you thought he escaped your memory. Your lips parted and the sharp gasp you in-took couldn’t be stopped. You felt your body turn around and your own gaze locked with the cerulean gaze you thought you would only see in your son. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw the brief flash of recognition across the face that still made your heart jump into your throat. You heard his sharp intake of breath, and  you couldn’t help the tremor that raked through your body when you heard your name escape his plump lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I am so sorry for this long of a wait. July was such a hard month for me. I traveled a lot and once I got home I fell into a rather depressing episode so I didn't have much motivation to do much. But luckily I'm coming out of that spell, and I fired up my most angsty playlist and got to writing. We finally get some Jason and Reader interaction, and like I promised angst! The next few chapters will be angst filled as well. So be prepared! (also I made a playlist for this fic on Spotify, If you guys are interested I'll link next chapter!)

The silence was deafening as the both of you locked gazes. You knew you should respond, or at least acknowledge that he said something before he whispered your name, but you just …... _couldn't._ You never thought in a million years that you would see his face again, you never thought you would hear his soft voice again, nor did you think you would _ever_ be this close to him again. As his deep cerulean gaze took in ever feature on your face, you blinked back the many overwhelming emotions that threatened to swallow you whole.

 

  _“Your dad?!”_ you asked,your voice raising into a sharp pitch for a heartbeat, as you recalled the previous statement he made as he entered your parents’ warm kitchen.  You saw him nod, and simply reply that Bruce was his dad, and you couldn’t come up with a response if you tried. Your brain erupted into so many thoughts, you could momentarily forgot to breathe. _So he was Jason? He was the late son? Did Bruce know that YOUR son was his grandson? Was this all just a ploy to take your baby boy away from you??_ The thoughts flew around your head in such rapid succession that you could feel a headache building from behind your eyes. You blinked slowly as you shook your head slightly, a stray frizzy curl falling out of the messy braid you had your locks pulled into. You saw his mouth start to move again, but you simply couldn’t take anything else he had to say, it was just...too much. You wiped your damp hands on your faded blue jeans and moved to step around the much taller male, but as you started to pass him, you felt a large and softly grab your forearm. Turning, you met that _damned_ cerulean gaze  with your own once more, and a soft tremble raked through your body. You saw him clear his throat, Adam’s Apple bobbing as he did. 

 

“Why are you leaving?” He asked, his voice low, gaze never leaving your own. You felt yourself blinking slowly once more, not allowing yourself to lose your train of thought and fall deep into his intense gaze. You felt your parents’ warm kitchen become even warmer and smaller than it already was. Suddenly feeling extremely claustrophobic, you snatched your forearm from him, taking a large step backwards. “It’s time for gift giving, isn’t it?” You bit out, unable to resist the rising frustration building in the pit of your gut. You needed to get away from him, and _think_ . His dark brows raised as he took in your tone of voice, but he stayed where he was. “I just wanted to catch up.” A beat passed as he shifted his feet a bit uncomfortably,  “I haven’t seen you since..” He trailed off, bringing a hand to run through his silky dark hair. Your lips twisted them self into a frown; a huff escaping them as you rolled your eyes. “Since we drunkenly fucked?” You replied bitterly, ignoring the bashful look that appeared across his face. “Look, we were, are, strangers. There is not ‘catching up’ to do.” You continued, your voice filled to the brim with frustration and anger. You knew you were being irrational, but you just couldn’t _deal_ with this right now. Seeing him was starting to bring up memories and emotions that you were not ready to face. 

 

As you glared at him, you saw his blue gaze darken and his sharp jawline clench with anger. “ _You_ left, not me. So do _not_ act as if I fucked you and kicked you out on the street, when that’s not what happened.” He spat out at you, nostrils flaring as his eyes flashed with irritation. You unconsciously stepped towards him, your own eyes narrowing as you clenched your petite hands. You opened your mouth to respond to him, but a soft, child like voice stopped the words that were about to escape your lips. _“Mum! It’s gift giving time! Come on!”_ You heard your son, loudly call out from your parents’ living room, and you snapped your mouth shut. Turning away from the dark haired male, you took a deep breath and started to walk towards the archway of the kitchen. You paused for a brief moment, and turned your head slightly, not wanting to look back at the male that haunted your dreams for months. “I left for a reason, _Jay,”_ you grumbled, spitting out the fake name he gave you with such malice, that he flinched. 

 

 ***

Once you entered the living room, you sat down on one of your parents’ plush red sofas and took your cell phone out, ready to take pictures of your baby boy as he opened his many gifts. You ignored the other occupants in the room, your mood completely ruined by Jay, no _Jason's_ appearance. You couldn’t deal with any of the dark haired family right now, so you focused all of your attention on your baby boy. He anchored you back to reality, and you knew it was not the time nor place to be lost in thought. You would do that once you made it back to your apartment, but now you would take photos of your son, and enjoy the rest of the holiday. 

 

Your mother began to pass out multiple gifts to everyone, but your gaze only fell on the lanky boy that sat in front of you. You told her to put your own gifts to the side, stating you would open them after Cassian finished opening his. You watched as he excitedly ripped apart the multiple gift wraps and how his smile grew with each gift he received. You watched as he thanked you and the other individuals he received a present from and your heart swelled as you watched him talk excitedly with Damian about the new vintage radio set he received. 

  
Smiling to yourself, you let your gaze flow across the room and watched the people around you interact with each other. You shook your head of the negative thoughts that maybe your surrogate family was only here for less than innocent reasons, and decided that for now, you wouldn’t think of the predicament you found yourself in. As you switched your gaze from Cassian talking to your mother, you felt your gaze land on the very eyes you were avoiding, and suddenly you were that naive teenage girl at that _stupid_ house party. His deep cerulean gaze flashed with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on and the spell was broken. You quickly averted your eyes and settled them back onto your son. This was going to be a longest Christmas you have ever had.


End file.
